


Life in Motion

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [44]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA V, Fake AH Crew, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: So here’s the thing about the scariest bastard around most people don’t seem to know. This guy they tell stories about in seedy dive bars and dark alleys and everywhere in between.Big, scary bastard half of Los Santos is terrified of, seem to think he’s some kind of demon set loose upon the world. (Not entirely out of the question in a city like this, really.)The thing is – and this is no secret - the guy’s also kind of an idiot.





	Life in Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anon who asked for Ramwood. :D?

So here’s the thing about the scariest bastard around most people don’t seem to know. This guy they tell stories about in seedy dive bars and dark alleys and everywhere in between. 

Big, scary bastard half of Los Santos is terrified of, seem to think he’s some kind of demon set loose upon the world. (Not entirely out of the question in a city like this, really.)

The thing is – and this is no secret - the guy’s also kind of an idiot.

The kind of idiot who hears strange noises coming from a dark alley and goes to investigate. 

And then (and then!) when he does, he finds a box of puppies just sitting there in the rain. Decides then and there to bring them back to the penthouse because he claims all the shelters are closed at this hour, and he’ll get around to taking them to one in the morning.

Like Geoff actually believes that’s going to happen anymore than he believes Ryan’s telling him the truth. (Like Geoff wouldn’t recognize his bullshit when he hears it. Doesn’t see the way Ryan’s sporting fresh bandages and the start of one hell of a black eye after he went out for more diet soda hours ago when the closest store is down the block.)

“Hey, get back here!”

Geoff bites the inside of his cheek as Ryan runs after the tiniest puppy in the bunch that’s managed to get hold of his mask. This scrappy little thing with floppy ears and a bark that sounds like a sneeze.

The hellhounds he rescued scamper after him like they’re heading off to war, yipping and yapping and falling all over themselves in their excitement.

It’s the cutest goddamn thing Geoff’s ever seen.

Ryan lunges and scoops the little thief up before it can wriggle its way under the couch.

There’s a pileup as the puppies chasing his heels collide into the back of his legs because they’re still working on that whole stopping thing. 

“A little help here?” Ryan asks, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh because the puppies are tiny little menaces around his feet, and he’s worried he’s going to step on one by accident. “Please?”

Geoff grabs one of the Moon Balls lying around and tosses it down the hall for the puppies to chase after as a distraction.

“Thanks,” Ryan mutters, finally wrestling his mask away from the puppy.

Geoff watches as he sets the squirming puppy down to play with its siblings, frown on his face as he studies the bite marks on his mask.

“Battle scars?” Geoff offers, because Ryan looks like he might cry. 

Really.

The ugly kind of crying that would ruin his face paint and make him look like a sad clown. 

“From what?” Ryan asks absently, running his fingers over the tiny bite marks. 

“Vicious dog attack?” Geoff offers, grinning at the look Ryan shoots him. “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

The rumors alone would be worth it. 

Big, bad, Vagabond gets attacked by some asshole’s dogs and comes out of it with bite marks on his mask and annoyed as hell about it. (Just guess what happened to the asshole.)

“Geoff - “

There’s a sudden crash own the hall followed by the sound of startled puppies and Ryan’s low sigh as he goes to see what they’ve done now.

Geoff doesn’t laugh at him, no.

That would be mean. The actions of a heartless bastard who enjoys the suffering of others, which Geoff most certainly is _not_.

He does, however, smile to himself when he hears Ryan talking to the puppies in the exact same way he does the Lads when they’ve done something stupid and he’s reluctantly impressed. (Or not so reluctantly, because those four are a little too much alike for anyone’s peace of mind.)

A glance at the windows shows the sun start to rise, color bleeding into the skies over Los Santos. With the puppies running rampant Geoff knows there’s no going back to bed now, so he starts the coffee.

The pitter patter _clickclickclick_ of little feet heralds Ryan’s return. Puppies underfoot and this look on his face as though he’s just realized what he’s gotten himself into.

Geoff grins, because he has the same epiphany himself a few years back with all these assholes looking to him like he had any idea what he was doing.

“Hey,” he says, and laughs when Ryan snatches the mug of coffee out of his hands and takes a long drink - 

“Oh, my God. This is disgusting.”

“I mean,” Geoff says, because Ryan always does this. “It’s coffee. I don’t know what you’re expecting, buddy.”

Ryan gives him this _look_ , trying to come across all spooky and scary, Los Santos’ resident bogeyman and all - 

\- and then the puppy tucked into his jacket lets out a tiny sneeze-bark, which just ruins the whole thing for him. 

Okay, fine.

The puppy poking its head out of Ryan’s jacket pocket and the ones snapping and snarling at his damn socks aren’t helping his case either.

“You know the Lads are going to lose it when they see them, right?” Geoff asks, because it’s true.

The puppies are tiny and adorable. There’s no way in hell those idiots aren’t going to fall in love with them at first sight. And Jack - the only one closest to being an actual adult - isn’t immune to this level of cuteness either.

“About that,” Ryan says, and fishes the restless puppy out of his jacket to set it down with its siblings. The one in his pocket seems content where it is, and strange as all of this is, it’s still not the weirdest thing that’s happened to Geoff. “I’m kind of counting on that, really.”

He would be, is the thing.

The Lads are going to be an easy sell when it comes to keeping the puppies, and Jack’s level of resistance is a notch, maybe two, above theirs. (Basically nonexistent.)

Geoff, though.

He’s the one they’re going to look to for a decision because they’re stupid like that, think he’s in charge around here.

“Of course you are, “ Geoff says, and looks down when he feels a sharp, insistent tug coming from about ankle height. 

Sneeze-bark, snarling and growling as it attacks Geoff’s sleep pants, and how the hell Ryan or the others could think he’d be able to tell them no when it comes to the puppies is beyond him. (He knows his idiots, know they’re going to assume he’s being a cranky old bastard who literally hates puppies before he even says anything.)

He should though, because it would be the smart thing given what they do. The kind of people they have for enemies - 

“They won’t stay puppies forever,” Ryan says quietly as he takes the puppy in his pocket out and sets it down at their feet. “We can train them.”

The puppies are Los Santos mongrels through and through. All kinds of bloodlines to them and feisty as hell. Paws on them that hints at how big they’re going to get when they grow up. 

No mystery what they were meant to be, or why Ryan came back from a soda run toting a box of puppies and this look in his eyes Geoff hasn’t seen in a long, long time. (Back when he was half-feral and acted like he was just waiting for them to drop the act, show their true colors like it was all a clever little trap, just for him.)

Geoff loves this city, he does, but goddamn does he hate what it does to people.

He looks Ryan, who is being so very careful _not_ to look at him. 

“Why don’t we start with house-training,” Geoff suggests, and hopes for better success with the damn puppies than with the two-legged terrors in his life. “See how that goes before we do anything else.”

Ryan glances at him, something wary to it that has Geoff shuffling closer to lean against him as they watch the puppies. 

“That one reminds me of Gavin,” Geoff says, pointing to the puppy chewing on its own foot, and slowly starting to tip over while the others play-fight. “Something about the face.”

Said puppy falls over on its side and starts growling and barking at whatever just attacked it as though it can’t believe anything would dare try something like that.

“Doesn’t seem to be that bright,” Ryan offers after a moment, uptilt to his words that has Geoff laughing.

“So weird that it reminds me of Gavin,” Geoff agrees because he’s kind of an asshole, and grins when Ryan laughs.

Looks a little less like he thinks Geoff’s about to turn the puppies into attack dogs like that’s the only thing they’re good for. (It would bother Geoff a lot more if he didn’t know why Ryan’s worried about that kind of bullshit, the things he’s told him.)

“I don’t know about you, but I could use some coffee,” Geoff says, keeps his voice light and casual as he scratches his chin, gives Ryan this little sideways smile. “Some asshole stole mine.”

Ryan coughs, eyes sliding away from Geoff’s, corners of his mouth twitching.

“You should probably do something about that,” he says. “I hear coffee theft is a serious crime in Los Santos.”

Geoff stares at Ryan who keeps darting looks at him like he thinks he’s subtle about it.

Big, scary idiot who’s just so pleased with himself, and Geoff, okay. 

Geoff can only handle so much.

“Yeah, I guess I should,” he says, and hauls Ryan in for a kiss because the man’s got a point after all.


End file.
